In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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"You on the other hand are and have something I want..."
Because that didn't sound horribly perverted and creepy in the slightest! A new chill ran up Era's spine. Did she really know what she was getting herself into? She was sure that she most certainly did not.
Stopping in front of the swirling shadows whirring before her, Era offered another glance to her unconscious friend. Somehow, a hopeful glimmer still seemed to be fighting to surface somewhere deep within. "Come back for me!" the plea was soft, almost indecipherable. And yet, she prayed that somehow it would still reach him.
With that, she bravely traversed the far-too-familiar shadows, leaving the Third District, and Rook, behind.
Ansem smiled as he stepped into the portal following her. An evil taint lifted from the Third District as the portal shut behind him, and all returned to as close to normal as it would on this World. While cross the way, Rook lay unconscious still.
And he gave the choker a tight squeeze.
Two men from the first poked their heads in. The loud banging and clatter seemed to have ceased, and they surveyed the damage... not much structurally, all seemed to be in relative order.
"Look, that kid, he's hurt!" One yelled to the other. Soon after they had gathered the boy up between them, and brought him back to the First...